And from the ashes, the Dragons rise
by Demetria0620
Summary: Mikado pulled the trigger and died. Kida grieved, swearing vengeance upon Izaya's name. Anri grieved, swearing ultimate love upon Izaya's name. Ikebukuro changes. Seven years later, Izaya, now fully recovered from his injuries from his last fight with Shizuo, returns to his beloved city, not realising that Ikebukuro is no longer the same city he left.
1. Chapter 1

**M/N : This account is managed by someone who is friends with the author. The author refuses to log in here again, but this poor friend of hers is more comfortable reading her works on FFnet app. Thus, the real author gave me free reign over her FFnet account to re-post any stories of hers that I like. So, M/N is written by me, the manager of this account, while A/N is the author's actual note copied directly from her active account on Ao3.**

**Just keep that in mind.**

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**_A/n : I finally watched Durarara despite this series can already be considered as classic and the fandom is probably already dead and has moved on from it. And yes, I know I have multiple other ongoing series and do not need another one, but damn I couldn't resist this idea. Also, I like Anri and want to see her as BAMF in at least one fic. Un-beated, and probably will never be. Enjoy!_**

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**_Prologue : The END_**

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_When did it turn so wrong?_

"Masaomi…I'm sorry."

_Really._

_When did it turn so **wrong**?_

* * *

He doesn't know when it started to turn so wrong.

But Kida Masaomi remembers when everything ended.

* * *

It was the last gaze. The gaze that the three of them—the Raira trio—has shared for one last time.

The faint smile on Mikado's beaten-up face as blue eyes fluttered shut in complete acceptance and resignation.

The loud bang of the door as Anri ran in, eyes glowing red upon meeting theirs—for once showing genuine horror.

The silent scream—a call unheard to a lost friend—as Kida's own amber eyes desperately pleaded and begged.

* * *

Mikado's last words, only heard by their eyes.

* * *

_"I love both of you so much."_

* * *

.

.

.

BANG!

* * *

That's how it ended.

That's when everything turned to ashes.

Lifelong friendship. Budding love. THE Raira trio.

That's when it ended. That's how it ended.

_The END._


	2. Chapter 2

**_Chapter 1 : Anri  
_**

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Anri is a parasite.

She isn't capable of loving. She couldn't love no matter how much she tried to. She couldn't return the love of everyone who has shown genuine care and love for her.

She is no longer capable of doing so.

She has made sure of it—to never be able to love again—because love hurts. Love is pain. Love is pain, so Anri blocks it out of her heart, content with leeching off other people rather than giving back part of her heart to the people who have given theirs to her.

Sonohara Anri is no longer capable of loving.

Not since she was left all alone in this world to fend for herself.

Never again would she be capable of feeling love. Never again would she be capable of loving someone. Never again would she be capable of returning someone's love.

So, why?

Why, Saika?

_"MIKADO!"_

Why does it **hurt**?

When Kida throws his head back to the shadow-engulfed sky and _howls _in pure sorrow—

—why does it _hurt?_

Why is she here, standing frozen with her legs trembling and her cheeks wet with tears? Why does the fluttering warm thing in her chest felt like it is twisting and clenching uncomfortably as her gaze lands on Kida's trembling form? Why is it the red that taints her vision feels scorching hot as she takes in the sight of Mikado's crumpled body? Why the tears don't stop, despite the sight of Mikado's busted skull is no less gory than the sight of her dead parents?

She didn't cry when her parents died.

Why does she cry _now_?

"I'm going to kill him," Kida murmurs, rocking brokenly on his kneeling position, hands trembling yet so firm around Mikado's body, his white hoodie is now drenched with the still warm blood of the boy that they both just lost. "That Izaya. That Izaya. I'm going to kill him. Kill. Kill. Kill."

Since she is typically unable to feel anything, Anri expects herself to comfort Kida. She expects herself to remain calm as she tries to talk her only remaining best friend out of this murderous trance. Mikado wouldn't want any of them becoming a murderer for this. He made his choice. Mikado made this choice of self-destruct, and thus this chaos shall end here with his death.

Knowing Mikado, surely he wouldn't want Kida to descend to a path of destruction by harming Izaya, despite this whole thing wouldn't have happened without Izaya's penchant of playing god.

This wouldn't have happened if Izaya keeps them all out of games. This wouldn't have happened if Izaya's entertainment is solely focusing on irritating the beast of Ikebukuro, rather than meddling with the life of three high school students. This wouldn't have happened if the Shinjuku informant didn't involve them in his game. This wouldn't have happened if Izaya didn't pull the strings from behind the scene and manipulating them into this situation.

Anri knows that she should've talked Kida out it.

But she doesn't.

Instead, Anri simply stands there, eyes glowing red, as red as Mikado's blood that drenched Kida and pooled on the tiles. She feels Saika trembles within her—the sword was begging, begging Anri to love properly, begging her to channel her trembling rage to the act of love rather than keeping her silence as if she doesn't feel anything.

What is this?

Why does she feel hate?

She couldn't love, yet why does she is able to feel _hate_—the ultimate form of love?

_What is this?_

Mikado remained crumpled and unmoving in Kida's embrace; his head tucked under Kida's chin, eyes closed oddly peaceful, thus giving them the illusion that he is simply sleeping to heal himself after a rather intense fistfight.

It is a nice illusion to indulge.

If they ignore the pool of blood, if they pretend to not hear Celty's soft guilt-ridden sobs, if they pretend that Mika is frantically calling the emergency line to get an ambulance for these troublesome boys instead of reporting about a successful suicide—perhaps they can pretend that Mikado would wake up in the future and the Raira trio would finally be reunited.

It is a nice illusion, yet Anri could only focus on _reality._

The large bullet wound on Mikado's head. The splatters of his brain matter all over the scene. His crumpled lifeless body. His unmoving chest.

Those are the centre of her attention.

_I'm a parasite._

Anri chants to herself, repeating the mantra of her existence over and over again, gathering the courage to steady her trembling legs as she makes her way towards her closest friends.

_I'm not capable of loving._

She tells herself that as she kneels beside Kida, reaching out a hand to at least comfort his grief.

_This wouldn't hurt me because I'm incapable of loving._

She repeats that to herself, despite the twist in her chest, despite the way her hand freezes merely inches from Kida's shoulder as her red gaze finally lands square on Mikado's bloodied beaten up face. She religiously repeats that despite her gaze is now transfixed on Mikado's closed eyes—

**_He's never going to wake again—_ **_This wouldn't hurt me, I don't love him—**Those kind eyes would never look at me again—**It doesn't matter because I do not love him—**He wouldn't be able to love me anymore—**That's alright because I'm incapable of returning his love—**Mikado-kun is dead—**That wouldn't hurt me—_

_"Anri."_

Anri gasps, jerking her hand away in a reflex movement to shield her heart, eyes wild as she meets Saki and Mika's sympathetic gazes.

Because even though she does hear Mika gently calling her name, the louder voice actually comes from her own head, in a voice that resembles the voice of her own mother.

_Saika?_

_"We can love, Anri."_

Anri wants to protest that voice. She can't love. She is a parasite. Parasites do not love back.

She can't love; therefore, she wouldn't have to grieve.

She can't love; therefore, this loss wouldn't hurt her.

It wouldn't hurt her at all.

It wouldn't.

Wouldn't.

Two different hands touch each of her shoulders—a touch that is so comforting and grounding—and Anri instantly looks up, only to see Saki's sad smile and Mika's concerned frown. Mika kneels by her side before Anri could even speak, looping her arms around Anri's neck in a tight hug.

"It's okay," Mika murmurs, patting her head in the way that is a reminisce of their old friendship. "Anri, it's fine."

Anri blinks, almost jerking free from Mika's tight hug when Saki reaches out her hand to wipe the wetness on her cheeks. The sad smile remains on Saki's face even as she speaks so gently;

"It's okay to grieve, Anri."

_I'm a parasite—_

_"Love. Love. You can love, Anri. Love. Love. Cut. Love. Grieve. Love. Grieve makes love strong. Love. Love. Love. Cut."_

Saika is acting up, deliriously overflowing with love as the sword pulled more and more fragments of the loves she has been leeching off Mikado to the front of her mind.

Anri remembers sticking with Mika, knowing full well that they both are using each other for their personal benefits.

Anri remembers depending on Nasujima, knowing full well that they both are using each other for their personal interests.

Saika makes Anri remember Mikado, knowing full well that Mikado was _different _than her previous host.

His awkward, timid smile. His nervous blush. His kindness of respecting her incapability of loving him back. His warmth when he constantly throws himself between her and danger.

Mikado has resigned himself to the idea that she would never return his love, yet he still loves, loves and loves her so deeply.

He protects her, despite knowing that she is more than capable of protecting herself. He keeps her secret, despite everything has been laid bare on the table. He knowingly descends to a path of self-destruct because she was dragged into the mess that she is partly responsible for, all because he loves her so deeply.

Mikado is the best host Anri has ever leeched off so far.

And she lost him to the games and amusement of a deranged man.

_"Grieve. Mourn. Love. Strong love. Strong. Be stronger. "_

Anri has lost her host.

What would a parasite do without her host?

Haa…should she hate the man who takes her host away from her?

_"No hate. Love. Love. No hate. Must love."_

Anri wonders if Saika is just consoling her or the sword actually had a change of heart. Is Saika even capable to do that? To have a change of heart? To change its opinion about loving Izaya? Anri knows that Saika couldn't find in itself to love Izaya. Their last encounter proves it. Saika has refused to cut Izaya. Saika rejected the idea of loving Izaya.

Even the sword of love refuses to love that mad man.

_"For Anri. Saika loves. Saika will love."_

Anri quirks a tiny little smile.

_Thank you, Saika._

Something flutters inside her, as if Saika is beaming at her.

_"Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love."_

Saika is delirious.

_"Love Izaya. Love Izaya so deeply."_

But Saika is right too.

Anri should love Izaya, for orchestrating this whole chaos that takes her host away from her.

After all, the ultimate act of love is murder, isn't it?


End file.
